el.angeleyes-第98部分

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　〃But　it's　the　truth。　I　swear　it！〃　Yen　Yasuwara's　eyes　were　bulging；　his　hands　vibrating　with　his　terror。
　〃For　a　start；　why　would　Hitasura　sink　capital　into　such　an　insane　venture？〃
　〃Ask　Hitasura　or　Michita。　I　don't　know。〃
　〃Of　course　you　don't；〃　Big　Ezoe　said；　then　to　Koi；　〃Kill　him。〃
　〃Wait！〃　Yen　Yasuwara　closed　his　eyes。　His　face　was　pletely　devoid　of　color；　and　he　was　whispering　〃Dear　God〃　over　and　over。　His　eyes　opened；　his　tongue　brushed　his　dry；　cracked　lips。　〃There's　a　way　to　prove　I've　been　telling　you　the　truth。〃
　〃Oh；　Mr。　Yasuwara；〃　Big　Ezoe　said；　〃how　can　you　expect　me　to　trust　anything　you　tell　me？〃　He　watched　Koi　edge　closer　to　the　lawyer。
　〃Please！〃　It　was　a　croak。　There　was　a　wild　look　in　Yen　Yasuwara's　eyes；　more　telling　than　if　he　had　been　hooked　up　to　a　lie　detector。
　Big　Ezoe　waited；　turning　the　emotional　screws；　before　nodding。　〃You　have　one　chance；　Mr。　Yasuwara。　I　do　hope　you'll　make　the　most　of　it。〃
*　*　*
　The　old　wooden　slats　were　drawn　across　the　windows；　and　the　acrid　smell　of　iodine　and　sickness　filled　the　room　like　dead　flowers。　Irina　stood　on　the　threshold　of　the　one…room　apartment　in　an　unlovely；　massive　post…World　War　П　building　in　Sadovo…Chemogryazskaya；　and　for　a　moment　her　mind　was　blank。　She　could　not　even　remember　what　time　it　was　or　how　she　had　e　here。
　Then　she　stepped　into　the　room。　She　could　see　the　form；　sitting　upright　in　the　ladder…backed　rocker　that　for　years　had　belonged　to　Babushka。　Wan　light　fell　across　the　silhouette　in　thin；　damaged　strips；　illuminating　a　scrawny　shoulder　here；　a　gnarled　finger　there。
　Irina　took　a　deep　breath；　said；　〃Hello；　Mother。〃
　〃Is　that　you；　Yvgeny？〃
　〃It's　me；　Irina；〃　Irina　said；　ing　to　kneel　beside　her　mother。
　〃Yvgeny；　you've　been　away　so　long；〃　the　old　woman　said。　〃You　bad　boy；　why　have　you　stayed　away？〃
　〃Mother；　it's　Irina。　Your　daughter。〃
　''My　daughter？''　The　narrow　head　moved；　and　light　lit　up　its　features；　ravaged；　wasted　by　time　and　memories　that　would　not　fade。　〃Have　I　a　daughter？〃　The　head　moved　slowly　back　and　forth。　〃I　cannot　remember。〃
　Irina　reached　across　to　the　windowsill；　took　down　the　tin　of　dusting　powder　her　mother　loved　so　much。　Softly；　gently；　she　applied　the　duster　to　the　translucent　skin　of　her　mother's　shoulders。
　〃That　smells　nice；　Yvgeny。　I　am　reminded　of　my　mother。　She　used　to　smell　of　boiled　potatoes　and　cabbage。　Even　after　she　bathed；　she　smelled　of　boiled　potatoes　and　cabbage。　I　wanted　never　to　smell　that　way。　No；　never。〃　Her　eyes　fluttered　closed。　〃So　nice。〃
　Then　her　eyes　flew　open　and　her　false　teeth　clacked　together。　〃Mother　of　God；　Yvgeny；　what　have　they　done　to　you！　There　is　blood　on　the　snow！〃　Her　voice　was　rising　in　pitch。　〃Oh；　Yvgeny；　don't　leave　me！　Don't　leave　me！〃
　〃I'm　here。　Mother；〃　Irina　said。　Her　palm　stroked　her　mother's　brow。　''Nothing　can　take　me　away　from　you。''
　〃Yes。〃　The　old　woman　was　calmer　now。　〃Yes；　that's　the　way　it　should　be；　of　course。　A　boy　needs　his　mother　beside　him；　to　take　care　of　him；　to　protect　him　from　the　harm　others　might　do　to　him。　My　Yvgeny。〃　Her　eyes　closed　again；　and　in　a　moment　she　was　asleep；　her　head　nodding；　soft　and　warm；　against　the　palm　of　Irina's　hand。
　Irina　stared　at　her　sleeping　mother　for　a　long　time。　In　slumber　she　was　so　peaceful；　her　face　suffused　with　the　carefree　peace　of　a　child。　How　much　like　a　child　she　was　now；　in　her　old　age；　the　circle　closing。
　For　an　instant　Irina　allowed　herself　to　e　back　from　behind　the　mirror；　from　the　blackness　of　her　other　reality；　into　the　all　too　familiar　horror　of　this　reality；　and　she　saw　in　the　curve　of　her　mother's　lips；　the　line　of　her　nose　and　brow；　the　qualities　she　liked　in　her　own　face。　But　she　did　not　see　her　own　destiny　there；　the　ending　of　her　life。　Instead　she　became　acutely　aware　of　the　branching　of　her　fate。　She　saw　how　she　had　stumbled　off　the　path　that　had　been　set　for　her；　and　then；　less　clumsily；　had　begun　her　journey　to　the　other　side　of　the　mirror。　The　flesh　may　be　the　same；　she　thought；　but　the　desires　that　animate　us　are　so　disparate。
　She　thought；　then；　of　what　Natasha　had　said：　Where　did　I　e　from？　My　mother；　my　father。　My　grandparents。　Most　people　know。　I　know；　Irina　thought；　but　it　makes　no　difference。　I　am；　like　Natasha；　an　orphan　now。　My　mother　no　longer　knows　who　I　am。　I　am　dead　to　her…even　worse；　I　have　never　existed。
　Irina　could　remember　her　grandmother；　splashed　with　thick　lemon　light；　bustling　about　a　kitchen　warm　with　heat　and　good　smells。　There　was　always　a　bit　of　food　on　the　tip　of　Babushka's　finger　for　Irina　to　taste；　and　when　Irina　begged　for　more…as　she　invariably　did…　Babushka　would　laugh；　scoop　up　some　more；　blow　on　it　to　cool　it　sufficiently；　before　offering　it　to　her　granddaughter。
　Irina　remembered　her　grandmother　as　a　strong　woman　in　the　way　Soviet　peasant　women　are　strong：　stolid；　beefy…cheeked；　hands　as　hard　as　concrete；　with　all　the　life　sparkling　in　her　eyes。
　Irina　did　not　remember　her　as　smelling　of　boiled　potatoes　and　cabbage；　even　when　she　was　rocked　against　her　grandmother's　ample　bosom；　when；　her　belly　full　of　Babushka's　delicious　cooking；　she　fell　asleep　to　songs　from　Babushka's　youth。
　In　the　summer　there　was　an　emerald…green　grasshopper　who　lived　by　the　hearth。　Irina's　father　was　forever　trying　to　kill　it；　but　Babushka　kept　it　safe；　or　so　she　told　Irina。
　〃Grasshoppers　are　good　luck；　especially　in　the　kitchen；〃　Babushka　had　said。　〃They　talk　to　you；　yes；　it's　true；　little　one。　Grasshoppers　tell　you　when　it's　time　to　sow；　and　when　it's　time　to　reap　your　crops。　Grasshoppers　are　very　valuable。〃
　When　Babushka　died；　everything　changed。　Irina's　father　was　transferred　to　a　more　modern　nuclear　plant；　so　the　family　moved　to　Moscow。　Irina；　who　had　made　something　of　a　pet　of　the　grasshopper　who　lived　by　the　hearth；　had　tried　to　take　it　with　her；　but　it　had　not　survived　the　trip。　But　then　again；　in　Moscow　there　were　no　crops　to　sow　or　reap。
　The　afternoon　sunlight　was　red　as　it　squeezed　through　the　slats　in　her　mother's　one…room　apartment。　The　young　student　whom　Irina　had　hired　to　take　care　of　her　mother　came　in　from　shopping。
　〃The　lines　are　so　long；　one　might　as　well　camp　out　in　the　streets；〃　she　said；　piling　her　meager　packages　beside　the　sink。　''And　then　the　shops　are　out　of　anything　one　wants　to　buy。''　She　shook　her　head。　〃There's　really　little　point　in　shopping　anymore。〃
　〃She's　worse；〃　Irina　said。
　〃Don't　blame　me；〃　the　student　said；　stowing　what　food　she　had　bought　in　the　tiny　refrigerator　and　cupboards。　〃Her　medicine　is　in　short　supply。〃　She　began　to　boil　water　for　tea。　〃But；　to　be　truthful；　I　can't　see　that　the　pills　are　doing　her　any　good。　It's　clear　she　has　no　idea　where　she　is　or　what's　happening　around　her。　If　you　ask　me；　she'd　be　better　off　dead。''
　〃No　one's　asking　you；〃　Irina　snapped。
　''I　only　meant　that　this　is　no　way　for　a　human　being　to　live；''　the　student　said　hastily。　She　poured　boiling　water　over　loose　black　Russian　Caravan　tea；　waited　for　the　cut　leaves　to　settle　to　the　bottom。
　〃Have　you　ever　eaten　a　pizza？〃　Irina　asked　impulsively。
　〃What？〃
　She　looked　into　the　student's　dull　face；　trying　to　see　any　hint　of　the　spark　she　had　seen　in　so　many　of　the　young　faces　lining　the　streets　of　Cambridge。　〃Nothing；〃　she　said。　〃Drink　your　tea。　It's　all　right；　I　don't　blame　you。　She's　just　worse；　that's　all。〃
　〃Everything's　worse；〃　the　student　said；　turning　away。
　And　Irina；　glancing　from　the　student　to　her　mother　nodding　in　the　rocker；　thought　of　the　grasshopper　that　had　lived　by　her　hearth。　I　am　in　a　vise；　she　thought；　that　is　slowly　squeezing　the　life　out　of　me。　I　must　take　some　action　before　there　are　no　seasons　left　for　me　to　sow　or　reap。
　The　revelation　hit　her　like　a　rifle　shot。　All　at　once　she　understood　why　it　was　so　important　for　her　to　find　White　Star。　It　wasn't　to　help　Mars；　and　it　wasn't　to　get　back　at　Valeri；　although　those　motivations　were　still　in　play。　She　needed　to　get　to　White　Star　for　herself。
　Irina　knew　the　answer　to　her　feelings　of　imprisonment：　freedom。　Freedom　not　from　people；　but　from　the　oppressive　life　in　Russia　which；　despite　all　her　attempts　to　lie　to　herself；　she　could　no　longer　abide。
　And；　for　her；　freedom　could　mean　only　one　thing：　White　Star。　The　underground